


Dogmatic

by Lichtschwert



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: 100 Years' War, Action, Angst, Assassin's Creed AU, Assassin's Creed typical violence, Betrayal, Crossover, Dark, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Jean of Arc, Minor Character Death, Post-Assassin's Creed III, Reylo - Freeform, Sexual Tension, The Animus (Assassin's Creed)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27550423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lichtschwert/pseuds/Lichtschwert
Summary: “Humans fear unpredictability and responsibility. They don’t want freedom, they want to be controlled.” It might look like a quote from the Empire’s propaganda. It’s not. Long before the Empire, the Templar Order espoused the same views; times change, but ideologies remain the same.Rey is running for her life—those she trusted betrayed her, those she feared want her for her DNA. And who is the dark and brooding Templar, with whom she shares a bond she doesn't understand?
Relationships: Ezra Bridger/Sabine Wren, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Sabine Wren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 33
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

There were twenty of them.

Ordinarily, there would never be this many in the same place at once, but when she called, they always answered. Shrouded in their jackets with their hoods pulled down deep over their faces, they waited in the shadows, cramped into a small, abandoned warehouse, in the middle of nowhere in Texas. 

They were all aware that this was an extreme risk, one that could cost them their lives. Nevertheless, there was no other way. They had to meet now before it was too late, and so they waited for hours for the arrival of their leader, Leia Organa. 

They had been betrayed by one of their own. Again. However—this time—they didn’t know who the traitor was.

For Rey, it was hard to concentrate on the weight of the situation. Considering that the warehouse had never been meant for a secret order to congregate in, there was not enough oxygen to go around, the air oppressively humid and hot. Rey shuddered, as a large bead ever so slowly trickled down each vertebra of her spine, every drop of sweat torture in itself.

Since they had been waiting in silence, her sudden move caught Bo-Katan’s attention and her head snapped towards Rey. Thankfully it was impossible to see her frown from under the hood, but Rey was well aware of the look she was giving her. Why had Bo-Katan insisted that she and Sabine join her for this meeting? It’s not like she had had a choice, as they traveled with her from their branch in Boston.

It was, after all, a meeting for all of the Assassin leaders of the Brotherhood, and Rey was … Rey wasn’t even an Assassin yet. Two months ago, she had completed her training, yet Leia had postponed her initiation ritual once more. 

Sitting on a wooden box and dangling her feet from side to side, Rey leaned back against the wall. She couldn’t wait to get the rite of passage over with and finally be sent out on missions. Some of the older Assassins liked to scare the initiates with horror stories of what they made you do though—like cutting off your ring finger or making you eat a scorpion alive.

Rey didn’t let this discourage her. She would do anything to become an Assassin. Even if it actually meant eating a scorpion, she would gladly do that over simply continuing to wait around. It seemed that all she ever did was wait.

Her black leggings felt like they were glued to her legs. Her hair—even though it was tightly secured in her three buns—was sticking to her forehead. The hood that normally gave her a sense of shelter now imitated a small sauna, designed to test her endurance.

Even so, Rey would never lift her hood. An Assassin didn’t reveal their face.

Still, it was tempting, to say the least. There was no air conditioning here, and because it was Texas the heat was unbearable even in the afternoon. Her head felt dizzy, and her vision was becoming blurry around the corners, as her lungs struggled with each breath. It was an agonizing reminder to Rey of her foster home. With a grimace, she remembered the stuffy stink of unwashed clothes and too many people living in one place—Plutt had refused to invest in an air conditioner and nobody ever cleaned anything.

Forcing another deep breath of the sticky air, Rey cracked her neck to the left and then to the right side. Why was she doing this to herself again? Why even look back to the horror that had been her childhood. Plutt was dead now. And she—she wasn’t.

To distract herself, Rey glanced over to find Sabine sitting on a box next to her and doodling on her jacket. Her fingers were quickly running over the fabric with an orange marker. Was she painting a wolf or a phoenix? Rey couldn’t tell.

Often Rey wondered why Sabine even used a hood to cover her face, considering how colorful it was—Sabine was always conspicuous. While Rey’s jacket was black, Sabine had drawn on her light grey one with markers, covering it with artwork that while gorgeous was anything but stealthy.

And in their profession, being stealthy was the difference between life or death.

Bo-Katan looked up from the blade she was inspecting and snarked, “Wren, cut it out—I’m getting you a black hoodie next time so you can’t draw on it.”

Sabine didn’t stop, and instead whispered directly to Rey: “I have a lot of markers that you can see on black material too.” Rey tried not to laugh out loud, which resulted in an embarrassing snort.

Some of the hooded figures around them looked up and Rey shut up as fast as she could. Truthfully, being the newest member of the Creed, she should try and make a better impression. However, this annoying waiting was making her restless. She contemplated copying Bo-Katan and taking out her blades. They were the most valuable thing she owned and it gave her a sense of safety when she could hold them.

As Rey was falling deeper and deeper into her thoughts—and closer and closer to sleep—the whole room fell silent and Sabine elbowed her to sit up.

Leia had entered. She looked older than Rey remembered her. Covered in a big and heavy black cape, the hood was thrown backward revealing her pale face. It looked as if she hadn’t slept in ages, dark circles under her eyes almost the color of her cape.

Abruptly, everybody stood up and Leia stepped into the middle of the warehouse followed closely by William Miles.

Leia was their “Mentor”—the wisest of them all, the leader of the whole Brotherhood. William was her second in command.

Sabine had told Rey that William used to be the Mentor himself but gave up the role after his son’s death. Since Rey had never met him before, she leaned over a little bit to see him better, but he was standing closely behind Leia, almost hiding behind her.

Only his eyes were visible and they were … they were dead eyes. There was no life left in them as they stared down on the floor. What it was about this man that made Rey uncomfortable, she couldn’t put her finger on it. Wondering if he could see that she was staring from under her hood, she leaned forward even further, when he looked up and glared directly back at her. Quickly, Rey averted her eyes.

With a loud and powerful voice, Leia began to speak.

“Laa shay'a waqi'un moutlaq bale kouloun moumkine.”

“Nothing is true; everything is permitted,” everyone responded in unison.

This was their maxim. While Rey never truly understood it, she didn’t lose much thought over it.

“Welcome, brothers and sisters. These are dark times. We have found out—” 

A sudden splintering of glass interrupted the Mentor. Leia didn’t hesitate for a moment and grabbed for a weapon hidden inside her cloak, as two Assassins, who had arrived with her, positioned themselves protectively on each side of her.

The window right next to Rey had burst into a thousand pieces, and a small, hooded body fell through it. The woman landed proficiently on her feet and jumped right in front of Leia.

Shockingly, she pulled her hood down revealing the braided head of Kaydel.

Rey held her breath—Kaydel? Was that really her? She hadn’t seen her since last year when Kaydel finished her training. Rey didn’t know if she could just walk up to her in front of everybody, but it was difficult not to smile, she had missed her friend—

“—Everybody!” Kaydel yelled, pointing to Leia, “Run! This is a trap!”

Kaydel turned around and by accident, her gaze crossed over Rey. She stopped as if she wanted to say something more, but no words came out of her mouth.

In wretched horror, Rey watched as a stream of blood emerged from Kaydel’s hair and started dripping down her face. Before she could as much as breathe, Kaydel dropped, her body making a sickening noise as it hit the ground.

No … no! What had just happened? Rey was staring at the body that used to be her friend. She was about to run to her, but Sabine pulled her back by the elbow. There wasn’t even time to scream, as a deafening noise froze her where she stood. It hurt her ears, yet she didn’t manage to cover them, as she was thrown against the wall like a rag doll, her head slamming against the cement.

As fast as she could, she stumbled back to her feet. The explosion had been on the opposite end of the room, and as the dust slowly settled, Rey could make out darkly dressed figures, standing in the new opening, the red cross on their arms unmistakable.

Rey bit her lip and grabbed her blades as she looked at her mortal enemies.

 _Templars_!

Immediately, Rey threw herself behind some debris. Covered in dust now, she looked back to where Sabine had been standing, but only her colorful jacket was sticking out from under broken stones. No, not Sabine too! She couldn’t—she wouldn’t—lose any more people today.

Rey was about to crawl to her friend when two figures approach.

“There’s one here!” one of them shouted. His face was covered in black material, and he had an M-16 rifle hanging over his shoulder. They were standing over to the right, too close to where Sabine was lying. 

At that moment, a man in an orange jacket jumped out from behind a pillar. His face was covered with a hood, but Rey knew who it was—Ezra, from the Texas branch.

He skillfully kicked one Templar in the knee. The Templar’s scream, raw and husky, echoed through the warehouse as the knee broke and he collapsed to the ground. With another move, Ezra pushed the other Templar against an exposed steel bar, impaling him. Pulling his guns out from behind his back, he shot each.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Ezra threw himself on his knees and started pulling the rocks away from Sabine’s limp body. There was a panic in his moves that Rey hadn’t seen before, as his fingers started to bleed, but he didn’t seem to care, and instead pulled each stone away with more desperation.

And this was why he didn’t see a third Templar approach him from behind. Neither did he see him pull out his gun and aim it directly at his head.

But Rey saw it all. She was by the Templar’s side in an instant, one of her daggers pierced him from behind, through his chest, and another bore into his neck, his blood trickling down her fingers. This … this felt right. This she could do. She had killed before, and she knew she was good at it.

Silently, she let the dead body drop to the floor and then ran over to Ezra. His eyes looked at her with eternal gratitude, before they both started pulling away the bricks and stones that were still covering Sabine.

Sabine’s hand shot out and grabbed Rey by the arm before she kicked away the last stone. “We need to leave now!”

Rey gave Ezra a smirk that he returned—this was typical Sabine. 

Scrambling towards the exit, Rey saw it. Or actually her. It was Leia, her lifeless body lying not far from them. Rey knew this was against her training, but she didn’t care and so she ran towards Leia.

In the back, she heard Sabine whisper—“No! We don’t have time!”—but she couldn’t have been serious. This was Leia they were talking about. The Leia, who had saved her years ago. She wouldn’t leave her behind.

Right as she was lifting the last stone from Leia’s legs, she heard cars halting with a screech right by the entrance. Were more Templars arriving? Thankfully Leia was a small woman, and Rey managed to lift her over her shoulder and pull her towards Sabine. Leia was out cold, but she still had a pulse. Ezra was already by her side and picked up the older woman’s body.

Bo-Katan, covered in dust and with blood on her hands, was waiting by the exit, waving them over and Ezra pushed Leia’s body into her arms. Bo-Katan pulled Leia through the door and Sabine followed.

Rey was about to follow herself when all of a sudden Ezra pulled her back by her arm. Rey wanted to protest, but he threw both of them behind overturned boxes, not giving her an opportunity. It hadn’t been one second too early, as another explosion followed right where they had been standing.

While the direct blast had missed them, the wave of dust that followed covered them. Rey was lying chest down on the floor, shrouded in dust mixed with the sweat on her face and hair, trying to spit out dirt. Throwing off one box that had fallen on her, Ezra lifted her under her arms, before pushing her closer to the wall behind another crate.

From this angle, Rey had a direct view of the new hole in the wall the Templars had blasted open. Dirt and dust were everywhere. It was difficult to make out if there were any other Assassins left in the warehouse. Had they all made it out?

As the smoke began to settle, she could slowly make out a man standing in the new opening. He was a giant—probably the tallest human she had ever seen in her life, towering over the troopers that were storming past him.

In all of the chaos, Rey couldn’t tear her eyes away from this one man.

He was, for a lack of a better word, “majestic”. Light from behind illuminated him and threw his face into shadows, as his long black leather coat waved from both sides of his large muscular shoulders. Troopers were running in synchronization into the building on both his left and right sides, like a choreographed dance of terror, and in the middle of it all, there he was, standing with his arms outstretched and a sword jutting into the ground.

Ezra pushed her even closer to the wall. “This is … Ben Solo,” he hissed.

So this was the most feared Templar of them all. He looked utterly lethal. No wonder even the troopers seemed to put as much distance from him as possible.

“Rey,” Ezra whispered, with more insistance.

When Rey didn’t react, Ezra pinched her in the arm. That finally pulled her out of her trance and she questioningly stared back at him.

“You see the window there? We’ll crawl to it so they can’t see us.”

Ezra pointed to a small window not far from them. Rey tried to crawl behind him as fast and quietly as possible and as they reached the window, Ezra opened it silently, gesturing for her to use his hands and jump through. Rey nodded and put her foot into his hand, her hands on his shoulders. She was about to push up when a sea of bullets flew their way.

“Get down—” Ezra shoved her away from the window. “—Rey!”

Ezra fell backward, while Rey landed hard on the floor. Miraculously, she had only been grazed, but her stomach clenched with fear and dread when she saw blood seeping from Ezra’s abdomen. She wanted to crawl to him, but continuing bullets made it impossible, forcing her to hide behind a pillar.

Right as Rey started to fear the cement structure might collapse, the shooting stopped. Fearfully, she looked around the pillar and saw Sabine’s blade sticking out through the shooter’s throat.

His body hadn’t even hit the floor before two more attacked, lifting their guns to aim at Sabine. She flipped and pierced her dagger through the throat of one, before turning and stabbing the other directly in the heart.

With one leap, Sabine was already next to Rey, dragged her up, and then pushing her jacket aside, she showed Rey a belt covered with grenades and thermal detonators. She pressed a gun into Rey’s outstretched hand and pulled two more from her belt for herself.

“Ezra!” Rey managed to get out. Sabine gave her a look of pure horror, as she looked around them, her face turning ashen. Ezra wasn’t lying far. She lunged herself towards him and lifted him, professionally putting a bacta patch on his abdomen.

“Ezra—“ Sabine voice’s cracked for a moment as she lifted his chin so he was looking at her from under his hood. “—I’m going to throw you through that window.”

Ezra nodded and Rey saw a simple smile play around his lips. He grabbed Sabine’s hand and squeezed it. Sabine’s eye twitched, and Rey could have sworn that there was a tear there for a second. But she closed her eyes quickly, and when she opened them back up, her face was the cold mask of an Assassin.

“You need to find Bo-Katan. We’re too visible here, I’m taking Rey through the back entrance.” Sabine pushed her forehead against Ezra’s and murmured, “Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur.”

Then, before Ezra could reply, she lifted him and threw him through the window as promised. Grabbing Rey’s arm, she pulled her towards the other door.

They didn’t get far. Immediately, they were surrounded by gunned men in black. How many were there?

Rey calmed herself, under her nose, whispering: “Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.” This was how they always started their training sessions. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. She heard the footsteps of heavy boots on the debris, the sound of gunfire not far, and Sabine’s heavy breathing right next to her.

Concentration. _There are twelve of them and two of us, those are good odds_ , she thought to herself. Without a second thought, she threw herself towards the first masked face she could make out.

With one swift move, her blade was in his neck, his body a cover for the oncoming bullets. One down. Having dropped his corpse, she parried every blow coming her way. Another she managed to shoot in the chest and the next stab through his throat. Two more down.

Sabine was dealing her fair share of damage. Three corpses lay by her, as she was masterfully avoiding every hit of the final Templar fighting her.

Once Rey ran out of bullets, she let the gun drop, immediately pulling out her second blade. The shorter blade in her right hand, and the longer one in her left, she turned on her heels and slashed the throat of the Templar on her right, before piercing the lungs of the one on the left.

In the moment of striking down the last of her enemies, Rey saw out of the corner of her eye a man aiming a shotgun at her. She turned and looked straight into the face of the Templar.

He was huge, and in contrast to the others, his face was exposed, one side of his head was shaved and covered in tattoos of red crosses. A malicious smile was playing around his lips, as his eyes sparkled with perverted satisfaction—he was about to pull the trigger.

Rey had heard once, that, when faced with imminent death, you could see your whole life flow by. But she was still waiting for her life! No, she wouldn’t die without a fight.

She was about to duck, and jump at him from below with her blades when another man stepped next to him. It was the man she had admired before.

Ben Solo.

She should have been scared of the monstrous Templar with the sword bound to his back and the guns on his belt. But it wasn’t fear she experienced, as his face captured her attention. Waves of black hair covered big ears and surrounded a face of soft features with a too-big nose. Yet somehow, his face didn’t fit the whole brutality of the situation, nor the darkness of his clothes. Maybe it was his warm, chestnut-colored eyes that gave him a hint of humanity the other Templars lacked. 

He wasn’t even looking at Rey when he stepped next to the man with the shotgun.

“Ap’lek, we were supposed to bring as many alive as possible. Remember.” He stressed the last word with a deep voice that made Rey shudder.

That’s when he finally looked up at Rey and his eyes locked with her, shock spreading on his face. He blinked once and then stopped breathing altogether.

“Kira?” he asked silently.

In that one word were both desperation and hope at the same time.

Rey didn’t understand what he meant. She didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because all of a sudden Sabine positioned her body in front of hers as if to shield her from the shot that could come any moment.

“Get away from her!” she yelled. Rey couldn’t believe that Sabine was willing to risk her life for her, this was not how the Assassin’s code worked.

Ben tore his gaze away from Rey, looking directly at Sabine with an icy stare. He clenched his jaw and barked, “Get out of the way, Sabine!”

“Missed you too, Ben,” Sabine said with a smirk, and then before anybody could do anything she was already next to Ap’lek, his throat cut open with her knife. Though twice her size, the man fell to his knees, blood spurting everywhere. His eyes glared in shock at Sabine with one last look, before they turned upward, as he toppled over.

Sabine twisted around, but Ben grabbed her hand with the blade. Pulling to no avail, she tried to kick him, yet he caught and held her foot as if it were cotton candy.

With panic, Sabine turned to Rey and yelled, “Rey, run you fool! _Run now_!”

However, Rey had no intention of leaving Sabine behind. She grabbed her blades a little bit stronger and with one last deep breath, she threw herself at Ben Solo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur.” = "Today is a good day for someone else to die." in Mando
> 
> Thank you to NapNapNapNapNap - without you my story would have been lost in my writing. 
> 
> Thank you to emiwaka29 - without you my writing would have been lost in my story. 
> 
> And thank you to ArcaneWeapon - for always going above and beyond and for dropping everything in an instant to help a fellow writer friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Losing consciousness is one of the most distressing experiences a human can endure, not the absence of thought, but the realization afterward of what had happened. Because humans shun any situation in which there is no control, they fear unpredictability and as such, deep down, they fear freedom. 

Rey’s Creed had always explained to her that people feared uncertainty so much that the majority was willing to give up their freedom for the safety of controlled routines. 

She had never understood this, given her life had been constrained from birth by a hopeless foster care system. It had been a purgatory of meaningless repetition, every day as boring and forlorn as the previous, driving her to despondency, willing to take upon herself anything so long as it meant she never had to return to that powerless, grey reality—all she longed for was freedom.

Nonetheless, as her vision blurred and her body refused obedience, she had to fight the panic threatening to swallow her. One second she was lunging herself at a Templar and the next, everything was fuzzy, pain spreading from her neck. Rey’s eyelids sagged, as she futilely tried to fight against their weight, her legs giving away and appearing to melt into nothing. Her whole body felt as if it was made out of stone with the only goal of hitting the ground. 

Until now, it hadn’t even crossed her mind that unpredictability could be so terrifying, yet now she grasped why people were petrified when they didn’t know what was happening to them. Once the realization entered her mind, she couldn’t shake it off—the possibility of freedom inadvertently lead to the prospect of despair.

Through a fog, she could feel she was—being carried? That didn’t seem right. 

Two big, strong arms were cradling her almost gently, pressing her into a stone-hard chest. It felt…it felt safe. She felt protected, and her mind was trying to fight those foreign feelings. Her thoughts too muddled, Rey had a hard time concentrating on anything. There was an uncomfortable screeching noise that seemed to echo in her skull and pain overwhelmed her head, as the noise seemed to morph into a ceaseless thud. 

She tried to move, and the arms pressed her even closer. 

“It’s alright. I’ve got you.” 

It was a deep voice that vibrated through Rey’s body. She had heard it before, but couldn’t place it. A voice so dark she knew she should fear it, and yet…it sparked a warmth within her which was unstoppable and all-consuming. 

That voice was the last thing she heard before everything went entirely black.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Everyone has that one dream that keeps on haunting them at night and Rey had hers for as long as she could remember.

The problem was that she didn’t understand it. 

It always started the same way, where she was in a room made of stone, with pillars that stretched so high she could barely make out the ceiling. Initially, it seemed as if the pillars were emanating yellow light, but at a second look, Rey could see they were covered in yellow patterns and symbols she didn’t recognize. 

A morbid coldness surrounded her, the smell of heavy machinery adding to the feeling of an inhuman chill. Her footsteps echoed through the empty halls. However, it was not easy to walk, since she was wearing a long white gown with heavy metal shoulder blades and her forehead kept on hitting against the metallic headdress on her head. 

Reaching a chamber, as she opened the door and saw a man lying on a stone bed. He looked up, wheezing in pain, his pallid face covered in sweat, his chest shaking with every breath he tried to take.

“Juno, please, I beg you—” he whimpered right before a chilling scream tore through his throat. His bloodshot eyes stood out against his pale skin which seemed like it was stretched too thin on his face. His purple lips were quivering as his body began to shake uncontrollably. “—I can take no more. End it now!” 

Rey hesitated for a moment, as feelings she didn’t understand coursed through her—desperation and hopelessness were pulling her down, their weight crushing her. She was being torn apart because she loved this man and she knew what she had to do, but she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to do it. 

He never broke eye contact with her as she kept on coming closer, his breaths calming down slightly. His hand grabbed hers weakly, his fingers too cold, and he closed his eyes. 

“At last, I shall be free. I believe in you...Juno, you will find a way.” 

Slowly, Rey clutched his hand even tighter, before her other hand moved above his chest. She felt his gaunt skin and muscles under her fingers as she traced him, rib by rib. Letting go of his hand, she pulled something from her belt. 

Her breath hitched, her eyes wide, as she saw the black dagger she was holding, its tip above the man’s heart. She couldn’t do anything but involuntarily follow the movement of her body, lowering her head onto his chest right next to the dagger, her ear picking up the erratic rhythm of his heart next to her face. 

A shiver ran down her spine, the hand holding the dagger trembling for a moment, as nausea shook her entire body and the hope that she could stop herself emerged. 

At that moment her hand stabbed down. 

Rey wanted to close her eyes, but this nightmare left her an unwilling puppet forced to watch as the man spat blood that mingled with the red fluid that had already poured from his chest. While his body shook with its remaining movements Rey held him in a tight embrace and as his heartbeats slowed down, she looked directly into his eyes, which had in its last moments regained its vivid color, staring back at her in euphoria. 

“I love you. I always will,” she whispered, and even as his blood smeared her face and coated her white gown, she dared not to move away from him even for a second.

As his last heartbeat ebbed into nothing, an agony overtook her that seemed impossible, her whole body trembling with sobs while she cradled his lifeless body, his blood soaking her clothes further. No one would ever understand the sorrow of taking the life of the one you loved—of feeling their soul escape them and knowing it was your sin that they were no more. 

With every second, the cooler his skin became, the pain she felt inexorably morphed into a pure and uncontrollable rage. 

_They would pay! These worthless creatures that called themselves humans would pay for what they made her endure_ , she thought to herself. _For every tear she shed, they would bleed rivers._

Abruptly she looked up and stared directly at—a reflection of herself in a mirror, but it wasn’t her—instead a stunning woman with long black hair in a black metal headdress glared back at her. 

That’s normally when she woke up, yet not this time. 

The woman kept on staring at Rey, a chilling smile spreading across her lips.

“Rey,” she whispered. 

Rey’s blood froze, fear paralyzing her as she helplessly couldn’t close her eyes, couldn’t speak nor move while an unbearable coldness spread through her body. She had never felt so alone in her life. 

“I see you, Rey.” 

The irises of the woman’s eyes slowly turned white as darkness spread out of them all over her face, slowly engulfing the whole reflection until Rey couldn’t see anything but an endless void.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was such a peculiar feeling to regain consciousness compared to waking up normally. Rey felt warm and giddy as if she had no worries in the world, yet those feelings quickly subsided, and in their stead, a sense of utter confusion and nausea overwhelmed her. She didn’t know where she was or what had happened and she couldn’t open up her eyes nor move her body. 

Trying to concentrate on what she remembered last proved difficult. There had been a warehouse, a monstrous man with red crosses tattooed on his head standing in front of her, his face contorted in a grotesque grimace, as he prepared to kill her when a deep voice stopped him. 

The memories started flooding back now, like water breaking through a cracked dam. It probably hadn’t been the smartest move to just throw herself at a huge Templar, but then again, Rey didn’t fancy herself a strategist. 

She tried to move again, her body limp and barely responsive, the powerlessness of paralysis threatening to push her into a panic. As the ringing in her ears increased into painful searing hotness, in a moment of despair, she threw her head backward, slamming it against the metal of the chair. 

A large hand instantly grabbed her right under her head, stopping any further movement, long fingers enclosing her neck and remaining there with their iron grip. 

“Always protect the back of your neck. Your enemy will jump at the opportunity to sever your spinal cord. It’s an easy kill for them.” 

Wasn’t it ironic that she would hear Poe’s voice now in her head? Poe was an amazing teacher, but he had always been so technical when it came to training her to protect herself. _She would already be dead if they wanted to kill her_ , Rey reasoned. Panicking never helped, so her heart could stop pounding harder and faster.

A prickle in her arm led to warmth spreading throughout her body, painful but in a good way, as muscle after muscle slowly woke up from its stasis. 

“Stop hitting your head. You will feel your body in a moment again.”

It was that voice again. Silently, she wished it didn’t have the effect it had on her, because she shuddered, and it wasn’t because of whatever he had just injected into her arm. 

As feeling returned to her whole body, she felt not only his hand on her neck, but the heat emanating from him. She had never been so aware of another person next to her. 

Finally, she managed to open her eyes, shocked to see his face so close to hers, his lips pressed tightly together, revealing the strain trying to keep his emotions from his features. Rey suspected that most others would not have noticed his tension, but to her surprise, she felt as though he could hide nothing from her. There was a depth of pain and loneliness in those eyes that she understood like no other, as she, too, was fighting this darkness every day. 

Becoming aware of the world outside of his eyes, she realized his giant body was towering over her, bizarrely, like he was using his colossal shoulders to shield her, not to intimidate her, yet with stiffness in his pose—a trained rigidity and stoicism it seemed he had imposed on himself. 

He stood so close she could share his breath, his warm eyes intently watching her, seeming to expect some kind of reaction. His body in such proximity to her, she could smell cedarwood and the metallic smell of fired guns, he smelled of death which reminded her of what they were—a Templar and an Assassin. 

His fingers dug a little bit deeper into her neck, warning her of her vulnerable position, as he was holding her like a predator holds its prey right before they attack. Yet there was nothing she could do about it. 

For a moment longer, his eyes seemed to linger on her, and then, as if he also remembered who they were, he let go of her neck. It seemed like he had to tear himself away from her as both his hands moved to her arm, and his long fingers slowly and carefully put a bandaid where he had injected her. The gentleness in his motion contrasted with the rough fingers, which had probably taken more Assassin lives than Rey wanted to know. 

“Oh Sabine, no need to give me your angry face. I just woke her up.” Ben’s entire demeanor changed as he spoke, the vulnerability Rey had glimpsed in his eyes seeming like nothing more than her imagination.

Hearing his words though, woke Rey from whatever spell she had been under. Sabine was here!

She looked around until she saw her, restrained to an interrogation chair behind Ben and clearly furious, glaring at him—standing between them—with what could only be described as rancor. Looking down at her own body, Rey saw that she was bound to a similar interrogation chair.

“Where are the others?” Sabine spat at Ben. 

“I honestly have no idea,” Ben replied as he walked away from them towards a chair standing in front of a computer on the other side of the room. He connected a device filled with red fluid to the machine. 

Curious about the rest of her surroundings, Rey looked around her. She was in a small room with walls as grey as the floor. There were no windows and only one metal door. The lone computer stood on a grey pull out desk, where Ben was typing away now. 

“Let’s see what your DNA tells us”—Ben paused, tongue swiping over his bottom lip—“ _Rey._ ”

 _He had called her something else before_ , Rey remembered. _‘Kira’, wasn’t it?_

While confusing, Rey was more interested in what Ben was seeing on his computer, as it must have been her blood he was analyzing. He continued clicking and scrolling around. 

“No! Ben, you don’t understand. Please, stop!” 

Shocked, Rey turned around. Sabine, her hair and face covered in the dust from the warehouse, her eyes with a mixture of pleading and agony in them, was glaring at Ben, not meeting Rey’s gaze. 

Why was Sabine so invested in her DNA? Rey was a nobody. 

“Please don’t,” Sabine whispered almost to herself. 

An uncomfortable feeling dropped into Rey’s stomach. The Creed—it was her family and Sabine had always been like a sister to her. But there was something about her—her DNA—that Sabine didn’t want her to know. 

What else had they not told her? What did they not want her to— 

“I’ll be damned,” said Ben, and Rey’s eyes snapped to him. He was hunched over the computer with his nose almost touching the screen. His expression had hardened and, as a result, his face looked like a cold marble statue. 

“This is impossible.”

“What? What is impossible?” Rey demanded urgently. Her lips were dried up and she had to fight the stiffness of her facial muscles. Yet she ignored all physical discomfort. 

The truth was, she didn’t know anything about her family nor her ancestors. She had been an orphan nobody wanted—wasting away in the foster care system. She had come from nothing and been nothing until Leia found her. 

“Wait.” Ben stilled, before looking away from the computer and over to Rey. “How could they not have told you?” he breathed.

He was—he was angry. He was angry for her? 

“So this is why you tried to rescue her?” he asked Sabine, but she was looking at the wall, ignoring his stare. 

Ben returned his gaze to Rey. “You…you are as cursed with your genes as I am.”

There was a heaviness in this statement that Rey didn’t comprehend. For the moment, Ben seemed to have forgotten his cold posture as he slumped back in his chair, putting his elbows on his knees and just starring at Rey with what seemed to be…empathy. 

Anger arose in Rey, her muscles stiffening as she clenched her fists. She tried to pull on the metal latches and refrained from the urge to hit her fists against the metal. Her whole life she had wanted to know more about her family. Why did everybody think that they could keep her history a secret from her? 

She didn’t understand what was happening, but she hadn’t survived this long in life to be intimidated now. She lifted her chin and looked back at Ben with determined fearlessness. She wasn’t scared of him and she wanted him to know that. 

There was a shadow of a smile fighting Ben’s lips as he watched the reaction he had elicited in her. He let out a deeper sigh and then stood up abruptly. He walked straight up to Sabine and as he was towering over her, Rey was reminded of the sheer size of him. 

Almost tenderly, he tucked some strands of her hair behind her ear. The action was so intimate, Rey felt like she was intruding. 

For some unfathomable reason, that feeling awoke a fit of jealousy in her she didn’t understand. She didn’t even know she was capable of it—but there it was. She didn’t want him to touch Sabine. 

Sabine, on the other hand, looked at him in utter horror. For a moment, Rey thought she might even try to bite the hand that was still hovering by her ear. 

“We are what we chose to be,” Ben said in a softer tone. His voice now lacked the honesty it had before, and instead was infused with a coldness that scared Rey. 

This—this was the Templar she had heard about, the one who killed six Assassins with his bare hands. 

“Remember?” Ben leaned down to Sabine’s face and his lips were inches away from her ear. 

All Rey could think of doing was screaming. She was about to yell at him to get away from Sabine and not hurt her, but she never got the chance.

Somehow, Sabine’s hand was free and she pulled Ben’s head towards her brutally. 

With a painfully loud clang, his head hit the metal interrogation table and he fell to the floor, unconscious. Sabine didn’t waste a moment and opened her restraints, immediately dropping next to Rey and freeing her as well. 

“Why didn’t you kill him?” Rey asked, looking at the huge mass of a body lying on the floor. It was difficult to step over him to get to the door. 

“He’s out. Now we escape,” Sabine replied coldly. She was busy sorting through a box that had been sitting next to her interrogation chair. 

“Shouldn’t we kill him? So he can’t kill any more of us?” Rey swallowed hard as she looked at Ben’s behemoth form on the ground. 

His hair was covering his face and she had to fight the urge to kneel and pull it away to look at his face again. Her inner conflict was tormenting her—she knew they should kill him, that’s what they were trained to do, but yet she craved to know more about him. She started to fidget with her jacket instead and looked up at Sabine expectantly. 

“No time for that, we need to run,” said Sabine as she collected her weapons from the box. 

“No time to kill? We’re Assassins.”

“I. Said. Run.” Sabine kicked the heavy metal door open. “Rey! Why can’t you ever follow orders?” 

Rey glared back at her in anger jutting her chin and lowering her eyebrows. 

“Give me my blades, Sabine.”

“They aren’t here,” Sabine said as she looked around the corner.

“What do you mean—”

“Look, Rey, we need to leave now!” Sabine seemed even more upset than Rey as she clenched her fists and furrowed her brows into a glare that left no room for defiance. “Just kriffin’ move!”

Rey stepped over Ben’s giant heap of a body and followed Sabine through the door. She was having a hard time keeping up with Sabine, as they ran down the hallway since her muscles hadn’t re-adjusted to movement yet, every step more painful than the previous. Disregarding the heavy breathing hurting her lungs, she tried to follow Sabine who was taking a turn after another. 

“Abstergo is huge, so as long as we move, we have an advantage. But we need the stairs,” Sabine huffed and turned a corner sharply. 

“Try to stay as close to the wall as possible, so the cameras catch less of us.” She was pushing Rey against the wall even as she spoke.

“Abstergo Industries? As in the Templar HQ? How do you know that?”

Sabine pointed up and Rey realized that the Abstergo logo was on everything from the floor to the doors.

“I guess you’re right.” It hadn’t occurred to Rey to look at logos while running for her life, but now that she looked around, it was everywhere. The Templars had been hiding behind the technology monopoly Abstergo Industries for decades now. The corporation had taken over every aspect of humanity’s life, from information searching to social media and nobody knew that it was, in reality, led by an ancient order that believed in peace through control. 

They ran through white corridors. Sabine seemed to know where they were going, but this wasn’t what was on Rey’s mind. 

“You…you know what he was talking about, don’t you?” Rey pulled Sabine back by her hand and forced them to stop. 

“I…Rey, this isn’t the time. I need to get you out of here and then we can talk.”

Rey let go of her hand reluctantly. 

“I don’t understand. What are you not telling—” 

The sound of footsteps echoed in the neighboring hallway leading to theirs. It was followed by voices that grew louder by the second. 

Abruptly, Sabine pulled Rey into a small, side broom closet. 

“They must be here somewhere!” 

The voices were close now. Sabine pushed Rey deeper into the closet and then positioned her body in front of hers again. 

Rey held her breath as she heard the guards passing the closet. How many people were looking for them? Already? 

The voices passed, Sabine immediately pulling Rey out, before they quickly began running again. 

“Where are we going?” Rey asked.

“East staircase,” Sabine puffed between breaths. 

Rey could hear footsteps behind them now. They turned around two more corners and then ran straight into…a dead end. 

“No, no, no, no, _no_!” Sabine kicked the wall with all her might, but that didn’t change the fact they had nowhere to go.

“It’s okay, Sabine. We can fight our way out,” Rey said as calmly as she could manage and looked back to where they have come. 

As Rey turned back around, she froze, the hair on her neck standing up as she stared at her fellow Assassin’s back. Sabine had stilled, facing the wall, standing sternly in a fighting stance, her hand meanwhile hovering over her blade. 

“You don’t understand, Rey. You don’t understand what they want me to do,” she muttered.

“What are you talking about?” Rey stepped closer to Sabine, and grabbed her shoulder, trying to force her to meet her eyes.

She managed to turn her around before Sabine hit her hand away. Rey hesitated. Sabine was looking at the floor now, and while Rey couldn’t make out her face, she thought she had seen tears. What on earth was happening? 

Sabine’s hand was still hovering over her blade, the coldness to her moves Rey was alarmingly familiar with, as it was their trained emotionless detachment right before a kill. Sabine was about to kill. 

Rey felt her mind racing in confusion because there was no other target here but her. The implication of that realization hit her like a sledgehammer. 

“Rey…I have my orders,” Sabine said sorrowfully. She finally grasped the hilt and moved to pull it from the halter. Her eyes were closed, but that didn’t stop the tears that were now freely dripping down her face. 

Rey grabbed her belt for her blades, but she found nothing. She had no weapons to defend herself. 

Sabine pulled out her blade and moved her feet into the position to attack. 

Quickly, Rey scanned her surroundings. The only escape she saw was back from where they came from—into the hands of the Templars. 

Finally, Sabine looked up. She was just standing there, looking Rey straight in the eyes and grasping her blade so tensely Rey thought her knuckles might have bled. Slowly, she moved forward on the balls of her feet, and Rey prepared herself to jump away.

“No,” Sabine abruptly huffed and halted her movement. 

“We are what we chose to be,” she repeated Ben’s last words. ”I can be the master of my own decisions—” She took a deep breath and stared up into the ceiling. 

“—Aliit ori'shya tal'din.” And with that, she let go of her blade, looking back down at Rey with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Family is more than blood,” Sabine translated as she visibly relaxed and put her blade back into its halter on her belt. 

When she saw Sabine’s eyes, Rey took a frantic step back. She had seen those eyes before...once...years ago...in that shabby kitchen in the foster home when Leia was towering over Plutt’s dead body and staring at her with the exact expression in her eyes. 

But this time Rey wasn’t fourteen. She was older now and understood the world a tiny bit more. Deep down she knew that for some reason, Sabine had just made a decision.

She had made the decision not to kill her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story would not have left my fantasy if it weren't for the amazing help of my beta friends NapNapNapNapNap, emiwaka29 and ArcaneWeapon. They not only make me confident in my English writing (it is not my first language), but they believe in this story. They push me to write better than I have the day before. Thanks to them I can keep on learning and follow my passion.  
> Thank You so much!


	3. Chapter 3

It is bizarre how humans define themselves primarily by their pain and suffering. Rey didn’t remember the actual moment her parents abandoned her, but the agony of being deserted by those who are supposed to love you most scarred her nevertheless.

As a result, she shunned trust, fearing ever having to endure suffering from another “loved one” again. That fear became a constant companion, ensuring that while in the foster home, she only ever depended on herself and avoided getting too close to anyone. 

In particular, she made sure never to talk too much, always staying unnoticed. Never did she take another kid up on an offer of help. Never did she trust anybody to have her best interest at heart. It was easy since her foster father Unkar Plutt was a selfish, brutal man, who tortured them by denying them food. Most of the fellow foster kids were as traumatized as she was. Despite this—or possibly because of it—every child for themself was the rule of survival.

Her approach ensured she didn’t get hurt again. However, it also forced her into self-imposed loneliness. Rey remembered eating at the corner of the common table, isolated away from the others, and never part of their discussions. In the same way, she would lie sleepless at night at a distance from the other kids in a corner, wondering what it could feel like to have somebody to belong to—to have a family. 

It was no surprise then, that when Leia asked her to join the Order and become a powerful Assassin, she didn’t hesitate. She followed Leia out of that hellhole and didn’t look back. 

Leia brought her to the Boston Assassin Branch who called themselves the “Mandalorians”. Within the Order, that division had its own culture and language. It was the opposite of everything Rey had known. The foster home had been a collection of unwanted misfits, not knowing their roots, fighting for Plutt’s scraps. The Mandalorians, on the other hand, were based on traditions and respect for each other—most members’ families had belonged to the Order for centuries. 

The Mandalorian branch leader Bo-Katan Kryze took Rey over from Leia. An intimidating woman, analyzing Rey’s every move, she either didn’t like Rey or worse didn’t find her worthy enough to join their order. Yet the more time Rey spent with the Mandalorians, the more she learned that their discipline could be misjudged for coldness. While not warm, the order members were loyal and considerate. The more Rey got to know Bo-Katan, the more she admired her. She was strict but fair. Harsh but caring. Quiet but always listening. 

It had been such a forlorn existence at the foster home, Rey wasn’t able to stop herself from craving what she feared most—attachment. 

Once she'd gotten more adjusted to life there, Bo-Katan assigned Sabine as a guide to her. Sabine Wren was almost six years older and already an experienced Assassin. Her knowledge of weapons and explosives was only matched by her excellent fighting techniques. 

A closed-off person, with a cold face that rarely smiled, she was very intimidating to young Rey. The only hint of Sabine’s passionate side was her uncontrollable need to paint. A master bomb-builder, she painted every bomb she ever created with symbolic patterns in the most astonishing color combinations.

The only other time she showed emotion was when she spoke Mando, an old, rarely used language going back years ago to when the Mandalorians were so strong they branched off as their own Creed. The Great Purge changed that, as the Templars killed almost all Assassins, making the Mandalorians a shadow of the old order. Sabine’s family was one of the oldest in the Order and as such, they still learned Mando. 

Sometimes Sabine would speak Mando to her brother or father. Even rarer, she would forget herself and use the old language with Ezra, while he was visiting from Texas. 

Yet Sabine ensured Rey met everybody in their branch and never was alone. She explained everything to her with patience and thoughtfulness. They established a form of kinship, which was a deeper connection than Rey had ever built with anybody. 

Though Sabine and Rey respected each other, it didn’t mean they didn’t butt heads. Sabine often chastised her for her recklessness and disobedience. It made sense to Rey, that Sabine who was born into the Creed saw orders as ultimate and didn’t comprehend how Rey could question them. In contrast, Rey wasn’t fond of listening to authority, having depended for so long on herself—hating the only previous authoritarian figure in her life. 

One day, as they were training in the common training room, Sabine used an exceptionally sneaky attack, kicking Rey’s legs up. Rey landed with a loud thud on the floor and could only watch as a small, brown bread roll slipped out from under her t-shirt. Rey speechlessly froze in place, her cheeks beginning to heat up and her chin trembling. She had snuck the roll in there during lunch, a habit she couldn’t lose from the foster home—living in endless fear of not having enough food the next day. Sabine calmly walked up, and with one swift move, pulled her up by her hand. 

“Care to explain?” she asked with a cocked head, looking at the bread roll by her foot. 

Rey took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to be ashamed. 

“Back at the foster home“—Rey fidgeted with her t-shirt, trying to hide the second roll she knew was there—“there was never enough food. Our foster father used food to make us work longer and harder and still, he didn’t give us enough. I have a hard time not hiding food at every meal. It’s a habit at this point.”

Sabine’s face didn’t move as her eyes remained as wide and concentrated on Rey as before. She turned around before Rey could decipher if she had seen her lips quiver for a second. 

“Again!” she snapped, picking up the staff they had been training with and attacking Rey from the other side. 

That night at dinner, Sabine sat down next to Rey as always, yet this time carrying two trays in her hands. She gave Rey two portions of every dish and then when they were done eating, she pushed her dessert towards Rey. Rey remembered it as if it had been yesterday, it was a banana cream pie with fresh fruit—she had never had bananas before. Rey was faced with a critical decision. Should she Sabine’s kindness? Should she break the imperative taboo that had kept her protected for so long?

With shaking fingers, Rey reached for the offered gift, fighting the urge to close her eyes. When the bite of banana and pudding goodness melted in her mouth, Rey looked up and smiled at Sabine. To her utter shock, Sabine smiled back at her. 

“Eat up, Vod.” Sabine leaned back into her seat.

“Vod?” Rey asked, between mouthfuls of buttery crust. 

“Sister,” Sabine replied. 

A silence fell between the two girls as they looked at each other for a moment with the acknowledgment that their kinship had developed into something more. Ignoring the hint of fear she felt at breaking her own taboo, Rey let herself enjoy, if only for a moment, the feeling of belonging. From then on, Sabine always ensured Rey had double portions at dinner. 

So as Sabine was standing in front of her in the dead-end of white walls at Abstergo Industries, hovering her hand still close to the blade she had let go, Rey didn’t know if she wanted to scream or to throw up. 

It felt as if part of her died and her parents abandoned her all over again. As if nothing in the world would ever make it right again. 

Unbearable pain spread from her chest throughout her body, her throat feeling as though the blade actually had cut through it, making it impossible to swallow. Rey gritted her teeth so hard she could hear it, more agony spreading from her jaw to her neck. With blurry vision, she looked down at her hands, her fingers feeling numb and foreign. 

It felt as if she was falling with incredible speed towards an abyss and there was nothing that could catch her. She struggled to breathe freely, as though her lungs were being pushed together in free fall. Her whole body strained, tense, trying to rescue herself, but nothing helped as she hit the darkness at the bottom of the abyss. A part of her died in this moment of sheer desolation.

She would have given her life for Sabine! This breach of trust was not only devastating, but it made her doubt everything. The false sense of security and trust Rey had allowed herself to indulge in shattered into agonizing bitterness. To stop herself from shaking, her hands tightened into fists that she stiffened against her body. 

A rustle pulled Rey out of her self-hatred. She jerked her head in Sabine’s direction, who was slowly walking towards her, her normally fluid moves replaced with a shaky outstretched hand. 

“Vod—” she started saying voice cracking, so unusual for her—the perfect Assassin Rey had always looked up to. Sabine’s eye twitched as she blinked excessively. Her tense face was fighting the single tear trailing down her cheek, betraying the loss of control she was always so proud of. 

“I’m not your sister,” Rey hissed. “Don’t touch me!”

Because she wanted to push Sabine away, she forced her hands forward. Yet as her fingers reached Sabine’s jacket, her arms turned into wobbly jello, too weak to follow her commands, which only intensified the feeling of helplessness. She ended up with both hands on Sabine’s shoulders, shaking her more than pushing. 

“How could you?”

“You don’t understand,” Sabine whispered in a brittle voice, grabbing Rey by her elbows, keeping her close. 

“True. I don’t. Nothing was true, was it? You … you’ve been lying to me.” Rey didn’t recognize her own voice, it was so hoarse and fragile. Her feet started giving out and Sabine was now holding her up by her elbows. All strength she had worked so hard to build left her, as she felt like an abandoned child again. 

“Rey, look at me.” Sabine was shaking her now, her voice thick and tremulous and her fingers digging into Rey’s skin. “I’ve given up everything I believe for you. I disobeyed an order.” 

Rey looked up into Sabine’s eyes. Normally, Sabine’s expression was closed with determination and concentration, contorting her face into a grimace ready for a fight. But at this moment, her features were blank, strands of her white purple hair falling across her face. Her chocolate-brown eyes were wide open and looking at Rey with the same concern as when she had pushed her the banana pudding, what felt now like ages ago. 

But it didn’t matter. Because Sabine had destroyed everything Rey had believed in. Nausea slowly spread through her stomach and she weakly tried to pull away, not wanting Sabine to touch her. 

As Sabine didn’t release her hold, the growing feeling of devastation transformed into a wave of dark anger that clouded Rey’s thoughts. How could she have been so naive to let down her guard? How could she ever trust anybody but herself?

At least her anger brought some energy back into her limbs, and Rey straightened up, ready to fight herself out of Sabine’s grip when she heard voices echo down the cold hallway. 

They had been so caught up with what had happened between them, that they had forgotten they were still running for their lives. Rey closed her eyes and forced the unshed tears away; she was first and foremost a survivor. As the voices grew louder, she looked around the dead-end they were trapped in.

There—right behind Sabine—a small, barely visible metal handle was sticking out of the wall.

“It’s a chute!” Rey yelped with a squeak.

“What?” Sabine asked, her brows scrunched up into a frown.

“A trash chute! We can fit!” Rey freed herself from Sabine and ran to the metal handle, yanking it open with satisfaction. 

Sabine’s mouth dropped open slightly. “You can’t be serious.”

The sound of voices and footsteps was getting louder and Rey, ignoring Sabine, jumped into the garbage chute. She didn’t slide down, but instead pressed her feet against the wall and pushed herself upwards. Thankfully she was small and experienced in climbing. 

Sabine followed with some hesitance, sliding her long legs into the chute. “I have a bad feeling about this,” she huffed under her breath.

Footsteps arrived within seconds, where they had been standing, forcing them to freeze mid-climb. 

“Where are they? Our surveillance showed them turn here,” a pompous male voice echoed in the now-empty dead-end. “Why aren’t there any cameras in here?”

“This is the garbage area, why would we bother with cameras here?” 

“Idiot! We need cameras everywhere!” 

“Could they have gone down the trash chute?” the second voice was closer now, and Rey held her breath when she heard the metal door being opened. 

“I doubt that, but where does it lead?”

“The garbage compactor in the basement.”

“Alright then, go look and check the level below while you’re at it. Then report to Mr. Solo.” The first man’s voice was so monotone and rigid, but nevertheless, at the mention of Ben, Rey swallowed harder. That must mean he’d woken back up. 

“Wait, no—I’m not going to him alone,” the second man protested. 

“That’s an order!”

“Can Domhnall please go with me?”

“No, you coward! Follow your orders!”

“I hate my job.”

As footsteps left, Rey twisted slightly to keep on pushing herself upwards. Her movement was immediately halted by a grip on her ankle. Not having enough space to look down to Sabine, she nevertheless stopped her motion. 

The metal door below them snapped open and Rey swore she could hear the first man mumble a long “hmmmmm” to himself. Starring at the dark wall in front of her, Rey didn’t dare to breathe nor move, counting down the silent seconds that quickly turned into eternity. When the door fell shut, her heart missed a beat. 

As the footsteps disappeared, Rey frantically climbed up, finding another metal door about two levels higher. Making sure that nobody was around, she pulled herself out, but as she tried to push off the wall, she instead stomped on Sabine’s head. 

“Sorry! Sorry!” Rey muttered, even those few, involuntary words hurting when they left her mouth. Quickly, she jumped onto the ground and Sabine followed without a word. The garbage area was identical to the one before except for the lightning and Rey realized right away why—there were windows on this floor making even the air taste a little bit fresher. A frosted glass door, with “Abstergo Maintenance” inked onto it, was standing in front of them. 

“That works.” Sabine knelt next to the computer that controlled the door and started pulling out blue and red cables. 

“What are you doing?” Rey asked, keeping her distance. 

“We can’t get out of here by ourselves,” Sabine said matter-of-factly. Her deft fingers dis-connected and reconnected cables while her eyes were scanning the computer. A USB painted with an orange marker appeared in her hand and she pushed it into the computer port—the security camera right next to them powered down, followed by two more down the hallway. 

“We need to find somebody who works in maintenance named ‘Rose’,” Sabine explained. 

A blaring alarm echoed through the empty hallway, hurting Rey’s ears as small red lights began flashing. Alternating between the sterile white of the walls and the frantic red, an impending premonition of doom filled the air.

Undeterred, Sabine pointed to the computer screen. “This is Rose. When this door opens, a lot of people will leave—we need to pick her out.”

A young woman with black hair cut into short and long bangs was looking back at Rey from the photo. You wouldn’t notice her in the crowd immediately—a great advantage for an Assassin—yet at a second glance, her wide smile was kind, and innocent, vibrating with a shy sweetness. 

True to Sabine’s word, the door opened up, and immediately the barren hallway filled with chatter and footsteps. A sea of people flooded by as Rey pushed herself against the wall. She had been trained on how to disappear in crowds, it felt safer to be surrounded by so many people. 

Stealthily, she merged into the flow of people heading towards the door everybody was leaving from. There! Rose’s eyes caught hers and already was she trying to disappear towards the other side of the crowd. Still staring at Rey, Rose bumped directly into Sabine, who pulled her by the elbow back to the garbage area. 

In Rose’s photo, her enigmatic smile had distracted Rey from analyzing her further. Facing the woman in reality her perception changed instantly. The photograph hadn’t captured the sparkle in her eyes nor her fearless and authoritarian stance. With lips pursed in scrutiny, she sized them up, simultaneously removing an electroshock prod from her belt. 

Rey let out an annoyed huff and didn’t contain her eye roll, as Sabine pulling out her blade positioned herself in front of her. Inquiringly, Rose looked between the two women and then considered the ornate Mandalorian blade in Sabine’s hand. 

“People are quick to judge...”

“...but slow to correct themselves,” Sabine replied, the grip on her blade relaxing. 

A hint of the kind smile snuck onto Rose’s face and she put her weapon away, seemingly accepting their encrypted confirmation. 

Shifting her weight to the other leg, Sabine put her hand on her hip. “Hello to the Assassin mole at Abstergo,” she said with a nod.

“Hello to the un-stealthy Assassins roaming Abstergo. Why are you blowing my cover?” Rose replied as she looked around. The hallway had emptied and the uncomfortable silence returned to the white walls, still engulfed in red light. 

Glancing around the corner, Rey bumped her brows together into a scowl. “Um, guys—escaping first and explaining later?”

Without delay, Rose turned around. “Follow me!” she yelled as she ran, her footsteps light and her movements trained. “The security cameras are down?”

“Yep, they’re out, not sure for how long.” Sabine huffed, following Rose closely.

“What did you do?”

“I sent a little virus into their system. It can short-circuit an entire building.” Sabine looked over at Rey. “Poe wrote it. It’s called ‘BB-8’.”

Normally, Rey would have smiled at that. Poe was very proud of the viruses and algorithms he wrote. Now her expression only hardened as they reached the staircase on the other end. Did Poe know? Did Poe have similar orders to Sabine?

Sabine’s shoulders slumped, her facial features sagging at the same time. “Is this the fastest way out?” she asked, her voice stiff. 

“No, but I need something before we leave since I won’t be able to return,” Rose said as she rushed down, taking three steps at a time. 

Lower and lower, they kept running until they reached a door that seemed fit for Fort Knox. Thick and heavy hinges were holding a massive metal aperture made with six, white, glowing panels—creating a huge cross. Rose pushed the wall next to the door and a white panel opened, displaying a small computer screen. 

“I need your virus now,” she said and reached her hand out to Sabine. 

There was reluctance in Sabine’s hand as she handed over the USB stick. Ignoring it, Rose tore it out of her hand and pushed it into the console. She kept on typing, as one camera after another shut down above their heads.

“They might have seen that we are here. I don’t know how distracted they’re hunting you. No idea how much time we have. So we will go in and take what we need, then run.” 

“Which is—” Sabine started saying. 

Rose stormed into the room and fired her gun into the air. 

“Everybody on the floor now!” she yelled. 

“Wow, that was …” 

“Smooth,” Rey said, finishing Sabine’s sentence. 

They warily followed Rose into the room. Rey was envious Sabine had her blade but refused to ask her for a weapon. She would never ask Sabine for anything again. 

A shiver ran down Rey’s spine, as she stepped over the threshold. High ceiling walls made out of stone and glowing electrical panels were starring at her. On one side of the gigantic room, big black mainframes were buzzing and emanating blue light. On the opposite side, small rooms with locked doors reminded Rey of prison cells. 

Rose was manically running from room to room and glancing into each of them through their little glass windows. She stopped at one, where she typed on the computer panel frantically. With a hiss, the door opened and Rose rushed in. 

Not far from where Rose had disappeared, two people dressed in lab coats lay on the floor. Rey only saw their heads as her view was obstructed by a chrome-colored bed on small pillars. It was standing in the middle of the room, between four high pillars, large lights illuminating it from below. It was surrounded by glass panels on the floor and two white modern chairs, which, with its luxury, didn’t fit the psychiatric facility bunker feeling of the room. 

Rey scanned the room to see if there was anybody else. An older woman, also in a lab coat, lay with both hands in her grey curly hair close to a glass table, elevated several steps behind the bed. Whereas the older woman was lying calmly on the floor the other two had been visibly shaking. 

Rose burst out of the room with a … human form hanging on her. It must have been a woman once, but it looked more like a corpse now. Her pale skin was abnormally pulled around her bony face and her eyes seemed to be sunken into purple rings. 

Whoever she was, she couldn’t walk by herself, and Rose struggled to pull her along, her legs trembling. Nevertheless, Rose was clutching her with a resolute grip—closely—as if to protect her from any further harm.

“You,” Rose ordered, pointing at Sabine, “take Paige and start towards the door.”

Wait, had Rose said Paige? The Paige Tico who had trained Rey with Poe? The same person who had disappeared a year ago on a mission, devastating Poe, even if he would never admit it?

Rey leaped forward, taking the woman’s face into her hands. Sure enough, this was Paige, even though her face was so sunken in, it was hard to make out her features. Her eyes were barely open and her irises were white. She didn’t seem to comprehend what was happening to her.

“What—what’s wrong with her?” Rey stuttered in panic. Sabine gently took over Paige’s limp form and lifted her onto her back. Without a word, she turned around and walked towards the door. This was the Sabine Rey knew. Efficient and matter-of-fact, no emotion visible on her face, but saving whoever she could. 

“I don’t know,” Rose replied. She had lost her composure from before, the color had drained out of her face. A tremble in her lower lip and her jittery hands gave away the fact she was shaking. Her breaths were quick and uneven. 

Unsteadily, Rose pulled a gun out and pointed it at one of the young lab assistants on the floor. The young man with blond hair stared at the gun and his pupils dilated as terror overtook his face. Rose’s hands were still shaky and Rey observed with surprise that she kept shifting her hold on the weapon. It kept taking her body out of alignment for the shot—this was a novice mistake. 

“What did you do to her!” Hysterically, Rose screamed at the lab assistant, who was now shaking uncontrollably. He shook his head between his hands and looked down at the floor. “Tell me now!” 

Rose knelt next to the man and held him up by the collar. She brought the barrel of the gun to his head. 

“She … she was too long in the Animus … the bleeding effect…,” the man was sputtering between frantic breaths. 

“Too much Animus? Why! What were you looking for?”

“We were looking for the piece of—”

A loud gunshot echoed through the room. 

Rose’s fingers were still clinging to the blood-stained collar of the dead man’s body. With horror in her eyes, she let go, the lifeless body falling over to the side. Her fingers trembling, Rose slowly touched her blood-splattered face, as she stumbled backward trying to get up.

Rey, in attack position, swiveled around. The older woman in the lab coat was standing too close to them. The gun she had used to murder her colleague was still in her outstretched hand, but contrary to Rose, her grip was stable and experienced. 

“Wait—no!” the second assistant yelled before the older woman shot her directly in the head without so much as a flinch. 

As the second dead body hit the floor, she turned towards Sabine, who had reached the door with Paige on her back but had stopped when the shots echoed through the room. The woman’s face contorted into a monstrous smile as she pushed her glasses with a finger closer to her face, magnifying her small evil eyes. 

“Please,” she said with a cold, soft-spoken voice, “return Subject 148.”

With swift steps, Rey used the bed in the middle of the room to leap, flinging herself at the woman. Before she could even reach her, the older woman fell over, already dead, a red stain spreading from across her chest on her white coat. Rey turned around and stared at Rose who was standing trembling with her gun still in the air. 

Rose blinked away tears that were running down her reddened cheeks. She let the gun drop and stared at it with widened eyes. It was only then the realization hit Rey—Rose had never killed before. 

Rey understood the first kill was the most difficult one, but she nevertheless found Rose’s shakiness confusing. The woman she had killed had been a monster. She had deserved to die. 

“Rose, we need to go.” Rey was pulling Rose gently by her arm, but the woman wouldn’t move.

“We need to go, now!” Sabine yelled as she re-adjusted Paige on her back and ran through the door they had come from.

Rey took Rose by both shoulders and shook her. “Rose, we need you to get Paige out!”

That seemed to do the trick, and some color returned to Rose’s face. She used her hand to wash away her tears but didn’t fight Rey’s hold on her shoulders. 

“You’re right,” she huffed and turned her shoulders towards the exit.

Before they got anywhere close to the door, Rose froze again and Rey ran right into her. 

“Rose, we don’t have time—“

“We need the Animus!” Rose interrupted. 

“What? No! We need to leave!”

“You don’t understand.”

“Seems to be the theme of today,” Rey snorted, annoyed. Rose ignored her and ran back into the room she had pulled Paige from. 

After several minutes she yelled at Rey. “It’s here! Take it! It’s their portable prototype.” Rose was pointing to an enormous black box with blue glowing borders she was pulling out of the room. 

“This is what they consider portable?” Rey complained as she pulled the heavy box, along with Rose, towards the exit.

They made it to the door and Rey, not so gently, pulled the box away from Rose. It had two straps that allowed her to throw it on her back. Having trained with heavier weights with Poe, she would be faster carrying it alone.

Rose ran up the stairs towards a different door, and Sabine followed her with Paige hanging from her back. 

“Now, we need Finn!” Rose yelled. 

“What, another Assassin is here?” Sabine asked.

“No—he’s a Sanitation worker … and he has a car parked in the basement that we can use!” 

Sabine muttered “brilliant” under her breath as they ran down the stairs towards their escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the trash compactor reference as much as I enjoyed writing it [I might have grinned like crazy typing it]!
> 
> A beta thank you letter would be longer than this chapter to NapNapNapNapNap and ArcaneWeapon, so I will settle for a huge THANK YOU for beta-ing!


	4. Chapter 4

With a jarring thud, the door hit the wall, surely leaving an indent as its sign reading “basement” fell unceremoniously to the floor. Having kicked the door with her full force, Rose now stormed through it. Behind her, Sabine lugging Paige, and Rey dragging the Animus machine followed, both red-faced and sweaty. 

The basement was nothing more than an enormous garage with multiple green pickup trucks parked in a row. They had “Sanitation” written on their sides, and their open back platforms were filled with brooms and black garbage bags. What interested Rey most was the grand garage exit door, the last obstacle separating them from freedom. 

Rose darted to the other side of the garage where a lone man was sitting on a chair, squaring an ankle over one knee, engrossed in a “Galaxy Wars” comic. The corners of his mouth were curved up and his eyes twinkled as he skimmed the page in delighted concentration. Neither the deafening alarm nor the blinking red lights—not even the smashing of the door—seemed to bother him. 

“Finn!” Rose exclaimed, mid-run, her voice an octave higher. 

Looking up, Finn’s face instantly brightened into an affectionate smile. He dropped the forgotten comic, rising abruptly. “Rose—what are you doing here?” 

As she reached him, Rose threw herself into his arms, sinking into a hug. For a second, his face relaxed blissfully. Then he quickly squinted his eyes and masked his happiness by adopting an impassive expression. 

“I thought you’d be evacuating. Isn’t it tiring? I feel like they evacuate every kriffin’—.' Finn noticed Sabine and Rey, standing by the entrance of the basement. Putting one arm protectively over Rose’s shoulder, his brows aggressively furrowed and his lips tightened. 

Rose reached up and framed his face with her hands. “Finn, I need you to do something for me.” She took a deep breath. “If you don’t, I’ll be killed. If you do, they’ll want to kill you too.”

Finn looked at her attentively. “Are you being serious?”

“Yes.”

“Kill as in dying?” he asked, slowly.

“That's generally what it means, yes.” 

“Okay, okay, just making sure. What do you need me to do?” The young man’s big, warm eyes seemed to have grown larger, filled with concern. 

As he listened to Rose explaining the need to get out, it wasn’t his body that betrayed any hesitation. It was the momentarily clenching of his jaw that Rose didn’t seem to pick up on. His eyes darted to Rey and she knew that look—it was fear. 

He jumped on the truck and threw some garbage bags out, rearranging others. When he had created a hole, he nodded in satisfaction and straightened up, pointing with his finger at Sabine.

“You,” he said, swiveling his finger towards Rey, “and you, get in here.”

In the process of lowering the Animus from her back to the floor, Rey stopped stiffly, glancing at Sabine. She didn’t want them to sit too close to each other, but she also didn’t want to waste any more time and … well, die. Sabine, instead of looking at Rey, glared icily at Finn.

“Let’s put in Paige first and maybe Sabine can sit with her to make sure her head doesn’t hit anything?” Rose said, interjecting. 

As everybody nodded, Rey let out the breath she had been holding. Rocking restlessly back and forth on her heels, she watched Rose and Sabine gently lower Paige into the truck. Rose tenderly stroked Paige’s face and Rey couldn’t help but notice Finn’s reaction to this intimate gesture. His eyelids twitched before he was able to adopt the unemotional expression from before. 

Sliding in next to Paige, Sabine carefully cradled her close, ensuring her head was supported. Rose and Finn then covered them with garbage bags until no hand nor foot was sticking out. 

In the same way, Rey hid with Rose on the other side of the truck with the Animus between them. The plastic of the bags rubbed unpleasantly against her skin, and she tried not to think about the liquid dripping from the bag onto her thigh. 

The roar of the truck’s engine rattled through the whole truck. The rumble of the garage door opening, combined with the feeling of motion as the vehicle started towards the exit, relieved the tension in Rey’s chest. She allowed her muscles to relax for a moment and took a deeper breath, regretting that decision instantly as her nose filled with the rancid stench of trash. 

As the truck shook from side to side, Rey twisted her head slightly, trying to peek through a gap between the garbage bags. All she saw was the darkness of night, interspersed with lantern light. 

Freedom—it was so close; they couldn’t get far enough from this place. Expectantly, she strained her ears to hear the wheels turning faster. Any moment now the shaking would increase and fresh, liberating wind would mix with the foul odor surrounding her. 

But instead ... the engine died down. 

Resisting the urge to jump up, she pressed her head closer to the wall of the pickup truck, peeking through the tiny gap. She glimpsed a young man in uniform standing by a gate closeby. A loud knock all of a sudden rang through the steel of the car, making Rey jerk her head back. 

“Good evening, Signore. Why are you leaving?” asked a male voice with a thick accent, too close for comfort. 

“My shift is over, just want to get home,” Finn answered, slightly rushed. 

“I see. Let me open the gate for you.” 

“Cosa stai facendo?” another male voice interrupted. Looking back through her little viewing window, Rey saw that the guard was no longer by the gate. 

“What’s the problem here?” This voice, Rey would recognize anywhere. Cold and lifeless with a British accent, it was the same one that had almost discovered them in the trash chute back inside. 

“This is just the sanitation truck leaving for the night, Signore,” the first guard replied. 

“The order was clear. Nobody leaves the premises,” the bone-chilling voice declared, “Ben, come over here!”

All it took was one name, one word—one syllable—and Rey’s whole world blurred. Ben. He was there, just outside the truck, only a metal wall separating them. Every nerve felt sparked alive by his presence even as her sense of the outside world dulled. Her heart pounded, echoing in her ears, canceling out all other noises, threatening to explode out of her chest. What this intense emotion flooding through her was, she didn’t know, yet one thing was certain, she had to regain control over herself before it overpowered her. 

Taking a deep breath, she carefully wriggled her head further to get a better look. Not far away, the back of a head with meticulously combed coppery-red hair hovered, the adjacent shoulders stiff in a military position. Where was B– 

“I’m going back in.” Ben’s baritone voice sounded too close for comfort. Rey rubbed her sweaty palms, trying to resist the relentless urge to look for him, to get a glimpse of him. She knew it would give away their hiding spot, but the desire persisted against her better judgment. 

"Have you found anything behind the building?" Rey sensed a trap in the red-haired man's voice. At Ben's negative, a note of malicious satisfaction emerged. "However did you let those Assassins out of your grip?" 

"How little it takes to please you, Hux. I think you prefer the loss of our enemies to the success of your brothers."

A loud yank of the front car door was followed by the noise of wrestling. Peeking through her garbage hole, Rey couldn’t see anything but wide shoulders and short sandy blond hair nearby. Whoever this man was, he was enormous. 

“What’s your employee ID?” A raspy voice, distinctively female, demanded. An enormous woman then, and a scary one judging by that voice. 

Finn grunted unintelligibly but didn’t otherwise respond. What was this woman doing to him?

“What. Is. Your. ID?”

“FN-2187!” Finn gasped out, audibly collapsing. 

“Check it in the system,” the woman ordered.

“Not scheduled to leave for another two hours, Signora Phasma,” the guard replied. 

Finn’s scream of anguish pierced the air. A little shake vibrated through the car. Was that Rose? Was she willing to let him suffer—even sacrifice him—so they could get away? 

The Assassins were disciplined to follow orders and not to jeopardize a mission to rescue anybody. Yet it was evident that while trained, Rose was not an efficient cold-blooded Assassin.  _ She couldn’t kill as easily as I can _ , Rey thought to herself and that thought bothered her for the first time since she had joined the Order. 

Her idolized view of the Assassin Order was starting to show cracks, and in them, Rey saw more and more flaws in their approach. Did it not matter which individuals got hurt as long as the majority was safe? Finn was not part of their war. Weren’t they, as the Order, not also responsible for his safety? 

“Search the truck!” the woman barked, footfalls sounding all around the car. 

Painfully aware that she had no weapons, Rey pushed her back against the wall of the truck. She could kill with her bare hands, but not a group of experienced Templars. As footsteps halted too close to her, the tailgate of the pickup truck cracked open with a screeching noise and the rustle of garbage bags to her right spurred fresh terror within her.

Her hand crept up cautiously to her chest, ready to pull the man in and kill him the moment his searching fingers found her. 

Abruptly, the rustle stopped and in its stead, the truck’s side shook as something heavy landed on it, inches from Rey’s head. It was followed by a heavy thud against the outside of the car and as the noise of gunfire tore through the air, Rey kicked the garbage bags aside and looked up. 

Sabine was standing on the side of the pickup truck firing her guns, arms spread wide, her pleasure in fighting openly rather than hiding, apparent in her confident stance. As the chambers ran out of bullets, she swiftly settled the guns onto her back and pulled out two blades. 

Jumping off the car, she threw one blade towards Rey who caught it by the hilt. As Rey’s fingers enclosed the leather of the weapon, all her energy and spirit returned. _ Let’s see what those Templars are made of! _

With one foot on the edge of the truck, Rey jumped into the air. In mid-flight, she stabbed her blade into the neck of a guard, pulling him down with her as she landed on the ground. 

Straightening up, she faced the next guard, her trained eye scrutinizing each of his exposed vital body parts. The larynx, the heart, and the liver were her targets. Or, if the opportunity presented itself, she could even go for one of the main arteries.

The guard raised his gun, exposing his left armpit—the axillary artery it was. With a swift flash of her blade, the guard hit the ground, screaming as he bled out. 

Rey spotted Rose standing behind the giant blonde woman and electroshocking her. As the behemoth fell over, Rose pulled an alarmingly pale Finn back to the truck.

Sabine was fighting her way through a crowd of guards in her typical style, reminding Rey more of an acrobatic performance than the clean and efficient killing spree it was. A bounce was followed by a jump on top of a guard, whose shoulders she used to do a forward flip, only for the guard to fall dead to the floor with a snapped neck. 

Out of nowhere, the red-haired man Ben had referred to as “Hux” appeared next to her. Sabine elbowed him into the face before dropping to her feet and rolling away. 

Hux’s appearance was surprisingly unimposing. Not overly tall, his shoulders were almost lost in his black mid-length coat. His wide lips dominated his pale face with eyes so small they were hard to find. His weapon of choice was a thin sword easily confused with a fencing one.

Initially, his movements seemed restricted and robotic, but he flowed with the weapon in a fast and calculated manner, extending its wide reach like a viper’s fangs, lunging forward like a snake trying to get a lethal bite of its prey. At every strike, his eyes glowed with a bright sea blue and his large lips slightly curved up—transforming his cold long features into a crazy grimace. 

Tires screeched right next to Rey, alerting her to a new group of guards arriving. Already, six of them circled her with their guns outstretched. Rey jumped on one of them, catching his neck with her thighs, breaking it with a crack as she landed on the floor. The next guard’s weapon she knocked out of his hands with a straight kick. 

Turning around, she faced the barrel of a gun. Her nostrils filled with the sulfuric smell of gunpowder as she ducked under the gun’s barrel, its shot narrowly missing her head. She lunged forward, grabbed the man by the wrist, and yanked his arm towards her in one fluid motion while she spun into his chest and aimed the gun at the other guards. With her hand over his, she squeezed hard, forcing him to pull the trigger.

Sabine’s scream of agony made Rey turn around. Holding her bleeding forearm, Sabine stumbled and Hux twisted around, sending her flying to the floor with a kick to the chest. His chest puffed out and his smile widened to reveal his teeth as he strode towards Sabine lying on the floor. 

Dread twisted in Rey’s gut, her throat tightening, the compulsion to protect Sabine stronger than her reasoning nor the memory of the recent betrayal. The quietest, guiltiest thought snuck up on her as she strengthened her grip on her blade— _ Sabine had to live so she could explain herself _ . That thought infuriated her even more as it was a sign of her naiveté and weakness and so, as the last guard fell to the ground, she thrust all her self-loathing into her lunge in the direction of Hux. 

She didn’t get far, as a wall of a man positioned himself between her and her target. 

Ben, in all his might, was blocking her view of the world like an unmovable mountain. Her eyes leaped to the colossal sword on his back, slowly shifting to his face. Where she had expected to find an ice-cold mask or even livid anger, she found conflict. His mouth was opening and closing, and underneath his deeply drawn eyebrows, his eyes ping-ponged, avoiding direct contact. At odds with his face, his stance was anchored—enormous and powerful. 

_ Did David feel like this facing Goliath? _ Taking a step away from him, she prayed that the rise and fall of her chest didn’t betray the effect he had on her, but could instead be attributed to the exertion of the fight.  _ How could she defend herself with her far smaller blade? _ Never had she fought against a sword this size. Pushing her shoulders back, she steadied her feet against the ground and tensed her muscles. Instead of reciting the Assassin mantra, she settled on Poe’s favorite words.  _ Deep breath between moves _ , she kept repeating in her mind. 

She might not be a full Assassin yet, but she would make up for her mistakes with her speed and determination. Not one to fear the superiority of her enemy, she wouldn't display her doubt in a fight. Grabbing the hilt of her blade, Rey held it up with both arms in front of her, slightly angled to the right. Then she raised her chin and standing a little bit taller, she stared directly into his eyes. 

Instead of meeting her gaze, Ben closed his eyes, letting out a harsh breath and curtly nodding to himself. In one smooth move, he reached his arm over his shoulder and pulled his enormous sword from its scabbard. He twirled his wrist behind his back flashing the blade in a swirl that moved from the back to the front, slowly bringing it to rest in front of him with an ear-screeching scratch on the cement ground. The move was as reckless as it was impressive, yet Rey refused to be intimidated. 

Ignoring the flutter in her chest, she leaped into action, running up to him and, at the last moment, sliding swiftly towards his left calf, her blade outstretched. Ben moved with a speed and grace astonishing for his size. Not only did she miss his leg, but his sword also flew right by her face, missing it by a hairsbreadth. She slid further away from him, needing to use her hand to stabilize herself before jumping back to her feet.

With another dash towards him, she changed the angle of her attack just as she reached him—yet nothing seemed to catch him off guard. Spinning her whole body to add power to her strikes, she kept hitting once from the right and once from the left. What she would give to have her second blade! It would have allowed her to double the effort, instead of settling on switching the blade between each of her hands. 

She struck him from the lower left. Twist. She hit him from the upper right. Twist. Instead of dodging any of her hits, he blocked every single one effortlessly with finesse. 

Out of breath, an impatient sneer escaped her. The pounding in her ears was almost as hindering as the pain in her jaw from clenching her teeth. Raising an eyebrow, Ben swung his right hand upward, releasing the sword for a moment before capturing it in a reverse grip. This time, his eyes locked with hers, penetrating and fervent. 

In a desperate attempt, Rey surged into the air, aiming with her blade at the now less protected right side of his neck. Ben twisted around and her blade clashed against his sword, the smashing clang resonating from their weapons almost deafened her. With her second hand, Rey quickly supported her blade as her arms trembled against the pressure of the mightier metal. Spinning his sword, Ben pulled her blade towards his crossguard and then forcefully pushed the sword into the ground, holding her blade captive underneath. 

This forced Rey to kneel in front of him, looking up into his eyes as she gritted her teeth trying unsuccessfully to free her weapon. Her face was twisted with anger as she let out a grunt of frustration. His, on the other hand, was blank—only his eyes betraying expectation. 

Taking the risk, Rey let the blade fall to the ground, using his shoulders to leapfrog over him. For an instant, their faces passed each other, their cheeks faintly brushing together. She landed on the other side of him, still feeling the shadow of his touch on her cheek, yet resisting the urge to touch the spot as she turned around. Let him come to her now. 

Ben turned around, his hands free of his weapon; the sword dug deep into the street. A gulp escaped Rey at what force this man must possess, to dig a sword so deep into the cement he couldn’t pull it out himself. 

With an unhurried stride, Ben walked towards her, peeling off his black leather coat and dropping it unceremoniously on the ground. Well-built curves of his muscular arms exploded through the sleeves of his black t-shirt, his shoulders seeming even wider without the leather to hide them. As he reached her, for a moment he towered above her, steely eyes piercing through her—the smell of cedarwood enveloping her—before the first punch fell towards her face. 

Braced for his onslaught, Rey brought up her forearm to counter his blow. Shockingly, it was easy to deflect. He struck at from different angles, his blows seeming so ferocious, yet with no weight behind them. To a bystander, it would have looked as if he had the upper hand, dealing out brutal blow after blow with all his might. Being on the receiving end though, Rey didn’t feel any damage from his attack. This was the  _ mightiest _ of the Templars? 

The realization hit her, much harder than any of his blows—he was pulling his punches.

She ducked under one of his attacks and sprinted back to the weapons, initially hoping to get her blade back. But as she reached the sword, an idea struck her. If he was pulling his punches, was every one of his moves a ploy? Rolling right by the sword, she used the force of her roll to pull it out. As expected, it came out easily. 

Her fingers struggled to keep their grasp on the hilt and her arms trembled as she tried to lift the colossal weapon, the sword far heavier than the weapons she was used to wielding. She glided to a stop and turned around only to find herself face to face with Ben again.

His next move was not only powerless but a mistake, as he stepped closer to her, reaching his hand forward to grab her wrist. Far too close to her, she dropped to the floor and used the moment to sweep her legs under him. His body hit the ground, and as Rey moved to the side, she clumsily thrust the massive sword forward.

Ben turned at the last moment, the blade slicing through his face instead of the arm she had been aiming at. He dropped to the ground. Lying there, he stared through the large slash wound across his cheekbone, blood streaming down his cheeks, his chest rising with heavy breaths. His eyes, initially staring at her through strands of black hair ablaze with terror, began to soften into awe and warmth, a warmth that felt so familiar, as if Rey had known it not for mere days, but for centuries. 

Standing tall above him, Rey’s breathing slowed down as did her perception of everything around her. Goosebumps slid along the back of her neck, forcing her to shiver. This was  _ the _ moment—the moment when she killed him with one vicious strike, the moment she became a true Assassin. And yet ... yet she halted.

That unnamed emotion seized her heart again, freezing her hands holding the sword. Her power over him incited a bizarre tenderness in her, as though she now stood over a beloved friend, once lost to her long ago. He was her enemy—her mortal enemy—yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been something more to her, in another time, or another life. To end his life was to sever a connection that she had only just become aware of, and wasn’t close to understanding. 

Shaking herself out of whatever confusing reverie had captivated her, she grabbed the sword harder, hurting her own fingers. She was an Assassin, and she had been trained to do one thing well—to  _ kill _ . Frustrated, she pushed aside that confusing emotion, and concentrated on her anger, pulling composure and energy from it. Changing her hold on the sword, she raised it high overhead—

“No!” Sabine’s panicked scream echoed behind her. 

A body hit Rey from behind, its weight pulling her down to the ground and halting her from completing her strike. She threw the body off and saw red hair flash before her, as Hux hit the truck hard, slumping unconscious to the ground.

Looking up, Rey glared daggers at Sabine who was running towards her. Had she just thrown Hux’s body at her to stop her? Struggling to her feet, Rey barked through gritted teeth: “You’ve lost your mind!” 

Sabine forcibly pulled her up and pushed her into the back of the truck. “Rose, drive!” she yelled and Rose pressed the gas pedal hard. They drove right through the last barricade, sending pieces of wood and metal flying in all directions. 

As the truck sped away, Rey couldn’t resist glancing back for one final look, yet she couldn’t see Ben. Instead, Phasma, surrounded by a group of guards, stood by the gate, shooting at them with a huge Magnum Research, the biggest revolver Rey had ever seen. The last thing Rey could see before they turned a corner and left Abstergo behind was Phasma’s stone-cold face and eyes illuminated by anger, impossible to forget. 

Holding onto the edge of the truck to avoid being thrown off, Rey didn’t lose any time to confront Sabine. She turned around to find the Assassin sitting against the other corner, holding Paige’s limp body and protecting her head during each bump. 

“Not now, Rey, not now. I promise,” Sabine said with sadness in her voice, “I’ll explain later when we’re safe.”

“How can I be safe with  _ you _ ?” Rey asked coldly. 

Sabine’s eyes widened, color draining from her face, but Rey didn’t care. Everything had changed. Her Creed, her family, they were hiding something. The loneliness Rey thought she had left behind her years ago consumed her and she wasn’t sure if she was stronger than the darkness. 

A small shimmer of hope that maybe there was an explanation for all of this—that maybe the last five years hadn’t been a lie—was dying, as fast as the fear of being abandoned again intensified its cold grip on Rey’s heart. 

To distract herself from losing her mind, Rey gave Sabine one last look of disappointment and then knocked on the back window. “Let me drive, Rose,” she said, “I’ll be faster.”

“Have you ever driven on European streets before?” Rose asked as she took one sharp turn after another. 

Rey hadn’t been paying attention to the outside world. It was the middle of the night and the road was barely lit up. From time to time, she could see the silhouette of a building and was surprised it didn’t look like anything she had ever seen. The buildings were far smaller, clustered together, with facades decorated in elaborate patterns. 

“Wait what? European? We’re not in Texas anymore?” Rey muttered to herself. 

“We’re in Italy,” Rose replied, taking another sharp turn that threw Rey against the side of the truck. 

“That’s not possible,” Rey exclaimed. 

“Everything is possible,” Rose laughed bitterly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NapNapNapNapNap: "So how does Sabine actually look like?"
> 
> Me: "Glad you asked, here is a [link](https://www.deviantart.com/lichtschwert88/art/Sabine-Wren-Assassin-870655590) to a drawing I made of Sabine Wren as an Assassin."
> 
> I had such a blast writing this re-imagination of Ben's and Rey's lightsaber fight in the snow. Was he pulling his punches too in canon?


	5. Chapter 5

Two men rode up the pristinely white, modern elevator as it rushed towards the highest floor, both standing uncomfortably straight with their fingers intertwined behind their backs, their chins high. Each was wearing the red Templar knight cross on their arm in stark contrast to their black clothes. Neither was smiling and neither was speaking.

There, the similarities ended. Ben stole a glance at Hux’s pale face. His taller and wider frame not only dominated the smaller man but also gave the impression of undefeated power, an advantage he knew how to use in a fight. Even so, the manipulative and endlessly scheming eyes of Hux made him seem the more dangerous of the two.

Painfully aware of how much his eyes tended to give away his sentimentality, Ben often wished he could have a mask to hide his treacherous face. 

With a jarring noise, the elevator arrived at its destination. Both men exited together, barely fitting through the elevator door, refusing to give way to the other. Ensuring that they kept the same pace, they walked to the glass desk in the middle of the white room.

The secretary looked up, dropped her black manicured hands into her lap, and then slowly rose, every motion coordinated to stress her figure. Her tight silk dress shifted apart, exposing more of her décolletage decorated with a massive silver cross, the rising movement gently swaying the cross from one breast to the other. She opened the grand door with a wide move and let them step inside, trailing her fingers down to her hip. A chuckle threatened to escape Ben’s mouth as Hux arched his back to allow his glaring to linger, dipping into the woman's neckline.

“Thank you, Bazine,” Hux said, with a sly smile dangling on the corner of his lips. 

Bazine smirked, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder before meeting Ben’s glance and turning around abruptly. The sound of her heels died away as the door closed behind her. Ben and Hux crossed the immensely wide room, their forms mirrored on the black resin floor, their footsteps breaking the silence. Floor reflections of the paintings on the black walls, depicting red knights, created the feeling of a red army following their every move. Every detail was chosen with one goal in mind—intimidation.

Phasma was already waiting for them with one brow raised as she looked at Hux, who gave her a lopsided grin, shrugging his shoulders. With an eye roll, she crossed her arms and turned her head towards the figure at the window. 

A tall, thin man loomed in front of an enormous window that displayed Rome at night in all of its glory. Long, skinny hands were clasped behind him, and a white shirt made out of silk clung to his frail body, yet his stance was strong. With some men, you didn’t need clues like height or eyes to know they were deadly, and the CEO of Abstergo Industries was probably the most dangerous man alive.

Snoke turned around, his deformed face illuminated by the artificial light of the office. A deep scar starting at the middle of his forehead led down towards his nose, old skin barely managing to stretch over the missing left cheek. The disfigurement was enhanced by the shadows cast by the wrinkles and scars. Nobody could stand in front of the Templar Grand Master and not feel the blood in their veins chill. He was the manifestation of fear and as such, control. 

With an elegance bordering on unsettling, Snoke walked up to an enormous mahogany desk in the center of the room and gradually lowered himself into the grand, red leather chair. He leaned over the desk, putting his hands under his chin, his lips pushed firmly against each other.

Ben had to resist another laugh as he stepped next to Hux, who was already standing to the left of Phasma. The man was trembling and, behind his back, he was nervously rubbing his fingers together. After so many years, Hux still feared Snoke unconditionally, his face turning ashen, as he stepped forward and spoke. 

A blur of words escaped his mouth, but Ben didn’t bother listening. It was hard to resist touching his face, where the bacta pads were glued to the fresh wound. Even with all the pain, the memory of the exact spot where their cheeks had touched was haunting him, his thoughts unwillingly flashing to her face. 

Rey…She looked so much like _Kira_ , it hurt. He dug his fingers deeper into his skin. Had he made a mistake? Should he have not—

“Anyway, our little mummy here let them escape”—Hux pointed at Ben, his voice pitching higher—“again, and he was bested, finally, by a barely trained little girl.” 

“What a wonderfully recounted story. I especially appreciated all of the little unnecessary comments,” Snoke whispered with his breathy voice, stressing the last letter of each word.

A blue vein popped on the side of Hux’s temple beating a visible pulse beneath his skin, as his eyes darted cautiously over to Phasma, who was ignoring him and glaring with a steadfast frown at Snoke.

As Ben turned his sight towards Snoke, a blue glimmer right by the window caught his attention, glowing contours materializing out of thin air into the transparent form of a woman. She gently threw her head backward with an inaudible laugh, her face turned away from Ben, as she leaned down and picked something up from the floor, which she slowly put into the basket she was holding. 

Forcefully, Ben closed his eyes, furrowing his brows. With clenched fists, he drew in a long breath and held it before opening them again. 

The ghost was gone, thankfully. His gaze was pulled back towards the two obsidian, sunken eyes staring at him—analyzing him. Snoke didn’t look away, ever so slightly tilting his head and leaning forward. Slowly, he turned his sight towards Hux, an ugly twist to his mouth. 

“This is _disappointing_ ,” Snoke hissed, leaning back in his chair, as his fingers fell on the armchair one after the other, drumming a rhythmic beat. 

“Yep, I agree,” Hux said, daring to smile at Ben. 

“From _all three_ of you. Three of my best Templars. Defeated.” Snoke inhaled deeply. “Go and start searching for them with the satellites.”

“Yes, Sir.” Hux jerked his head up and hit his heels together. Phasma nodded first to Snoke and then to Ben before she turned on her heel. 

But as Hux moved towards the door, Snoke’s voice echoed through the room: “And ask Thrawn to help you.” A cruel smile playing around Snoke’s lips as he pulled every word to make it longer. “You obviously were not competent enough to do it yourself.” 

“Grand Master, he is busy interrogating the Assassin we caught,” Phasma chimed in. Her voice, robotic as ever, didn’t betray any emotion but the fingers of her visible hand clamped into white-knuckled grips. Standing close to Hux made her superior height—she was taller than Ben by an inch—even more apparent. Her red-seamed black cape hung over her shoulder hiding her other hand that generally hovered close to her gun. If Phasma could, she would be running around with her blaster rifle in her hands all day. 

“The only one you managed to capture alive, you mean? Yes, I doubt it will take him much longer,” Snoke said. 

“But,Sir—” Hux’s shoulders slumped down.

“You heard me. May the Father of Understanding guide us.” Snoke waved his hand in a dismissive move. “Now leave. Ben, sit down.”

Hux and Phasma exchanged silent glances but nevertheless left the office with abrupt steps. 

“Annoying,” Ben said as the door fell closed with a loud clamor. He lumbered over to one of the too-small chairs in front of the desk and sunk into it, which wasn’t an easy feat considering how low it was.

Snoke had been keenly following his movement, the skin on his face relaxing, as Ben rested in the chair. Surprisingly, a hint of affection in his eyes added some humanity back to his otherwise dead features. Without averting his eyes, he reached under his desk and pulled a glass bottle filled with golden liquid from underneath, proceeding to pour two glasses—one slightly taller and one slightly wider—of the whiskey. 

This was their typical ritual, one they had repeated many nights, discussing over and over the difficult task at hand—humanity’s salvation. Ben appreciated that Snoke shared his wisdom freely. It was a topic Snoke did not take lightly nor did he use it as an excuse to gain more power. Quite the opposite, Snoke only wanted power to ensure that he could save humanity from itself. The Templar Grand Master was honest about the truth—he had sacrificed his morality for the greater good, seeing it as necessary to commit evil to protect the masses from greater evil. 

A bitter thought entered Ben’s mind, and he gritted his teeth as he attempted to keep his eyes emotionless. _Snoke had given him and his opinions more attention and respect than anyone else—especially more than his mother or uncle_. 

“I know…but he is a good and loyal Templar even though his egocentrism often gets in the way.” Snoke’s eyes were still fixed on Ben as he placed a large ice cube tray on the desk. 

In Ben’s opinion, Hux was power-hungry, ready to backstab anybody and manipulate his way to his objectives. Yet Snoke’s biggest flaw was that he believed so much in the righteousness of his beliefs—of the whole Templar Order’s beliefs—he couldn’t even fathom a fellow Templar putting his desires above the common goal. The only reason Hux hadn’t stabbed Snoke in his sleep yet was his paralyzing fear of the man.

“Was that the Bleeding effect before?” Snoke asked as he let an ice cube drop into the wider glass with a jangle.

“Yes.”

“Again?” Snoke squinted his eyes, his lips pressed flatly. 

“It’s getting stronger.” Ben shrugged his shoulders. 

“You need to spend less time in the Animus.” The old man pushed the wider glass with ice towards him. 

Taking a sip, Ben let the fluid slowly drip down his throat with a burning sensation. It wasn’t the taste he enjoyed, but the discomfort and ensuing warmth in his body that made him feel alive, something that with each day was becoming harder to accomplish. 

“You are activating the Sigma Team?” Ben asked cautiously to change the topic.

“Indeed, Thrawn will be a great asset to this mission,” Snoke replied and fell quiet again, looking at the glass in his long and wrinkled fingers.

When Ben rejected Snoke’s offer to lead the Sigma Team, Thrawn had been more than happy to step in. Thrawn—a fanatic, identifying more as a Templar than a human—was in many aspects more lethal than Snoke. So wrapped in their ideology, he was willing to do anything it took to reach the Order’s goals, including killing every single person in this building with his bare hands. 

A drop of the whiskey spilled from Ben's lip, creating a fiery trail of pain down his cut and Ben suppressed a howl of anguish, instead biting down hard on his lip. Snoke jerked his head up, narrowing his eyes and nostrils flaring. He furrowed his eyebrows, ostensibly, and then released them as he settled into his typical pose—left elbow on the armrest, right hand grabbing the other side of the chair and arched forward slightly. 

“How is your face?” he asked, with seemingly earnest concern in his voice.

“Nothing that won’t heal, Grand Master,” Ben replied through the bandages. It was difficult to keep his voice steady; he knew it was crucial to project confidence when speaking with the Master, but somehow Snoke always seemed to sense the confusion below. 

“It is a pity you let Sabine Wren escape,” Snoke said as he blinked, intensifying his focus on Ben. “She let you live, I understand? Is there something I should be aware of?” 

Though Ben respected Snoke, he never forgot that he couldn’t be fully trusted. Their shared goal of peace bound them together, but their drastically different methods meant he had to approach the other man with caution. Snoke believed in quick results and ignored the number of lives it cost. Ben, on the other hand, preferred a calculated approach with the fewest lives wasted; unnecessary death disgusted him.

The grey zone Snoke dwelled within constantly presented a challenge to Ben and as a result, their relationship—reminiscent of one of father and son—perpetually ended up feeling more like a game. One where they closely watched the moves of the other, gauging reactions and waiting for a mistake. 

“Nothing that isn’t over and forgotten by now,” Ben replied, looking directly in Snoke’s reptilian eyes. 

“It seems that it isn’t forgotten for her,” Snoke remarked.

“That’s her weakness,” Ben said holding Snoke’s gaze. He placed his empty glass on the desk with an audible clunk and then rested his hands on his knees, hoping it wasn’t too obvious how hard he was grabbing the fabric of his pants. 

“Twice,” Snoke said calmly and then he closed his eyes. 

With Snoke, one was never sure if silence was bliss or the calm before the storm. _Did the Grand Master suspect that he had betrayed him tonight?_ Suspicion was part of the game and there was no reason for Ben to explain himself further, so he remained silent, well aware that he probably was drawing blood with his nails on his knees. 

What really bothered Ben was the feeling of guilt sneaking up on him, based on some false attachment to this old man, just because he had taken him in when his own family had betrayed him. Ben knew he couldn’t permit himself this type of sentimentality and so he pushed the feeling aside. Remaining in his phlegmatic pose, he resisted the urge to clench his fists as his nostrils flared. His face remained neutral, but he couldn’t be sure that his eyes didn’t betray him. 

“The other girl, she was not so foolish. She tried to kill you,” Snoke said.

“Rey,” Ben replied simply, yet failing to hide the slight change in his voice.

Snoke opened up his eyes—all the warmth and concern from before had vanished and in its stead, cold evil was shining through.

“ _Yes_.” The word was prolonged much more than needed. “I understand you ran the DNA test on her?”

“I did.” 

“And?”

“She is a Kenobi,” Ben said slowly, ensuring neither his voice nor head movements were uncontrolled. 

“That’s impossible. There were no descendants!” Snoke’s mouth had fallen slightly open and his fingers touched his parted lips. 

“I am happy to show you the results, Sir.” There was a challenge in this statement. Ben knew he was pushing Snoke to either make a stand, questioning him outright, or to drop the issue and believe him—at least for now.

“No need. But this…this changes things.” Taking a sharper breath, he cracked his knuckles and then stretched each of his long fingers.

“It does indeed,” Ben whispered looking beyond Snoke at the shimmering lights of the city. 

Snoke’s lips curled upwards into a devilish smile.

“ _Find_ _her_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Did you enjoy a glimpse of Ben's POV? 
> 
> Please note that Snoke is written out of character on purpose. I personally found that his character and motivation were too simplistic in the movies, leaving the viewer wondering why he was power-hungry and evil in the first place. I see this as an opportunity to re-create Snoke and add to him a depth as well as a grey morality, which will make him more intriguing and dangerous. 
> 
> As always, I just can't thank NapNapNapNapNap and ArcaneWeapon enough, I don't know what I would do without them.


End file.
